Trusting Purity: Blush's Story
by DuchessConlon
Summary: Second in the Song and Dance series which began with Duchess' story. Medda's niece Blush just returned from a year at the Moulin Rouge. Due to her experiencees there, she's very wary of guys. Can Mush win her heart? Will a silly promise get in the way
1. Life Upon the Wicked Stage

AN: Welcome to the long awaited second story in what I am now titling the Song and Dance series. In case you've forgetten (It has been forever!) The first story was called Starting Over . . . Again. That story was entirely written by me, Duchess. This fic is co-written by me and my bestest best friend, Lyric. She has her own fic in this series, which actually is the one after this one! Something to look forward to :-) But anyway, on with the story!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
April 1899 Medda Larkson took a final bow on the Irving Hall stage to wild applause for the perennial favorite "High Times, Hard Times," then headed backstage to take a break. She noticed that her niece Skye had been watching from the wings and was apparently waiting to talk to her. "Aunt Medda," she began hesitantly. "Yes, Blush?" Medda privately thought this nickname was ridiculous, but her stubborn niece insisted on being called nothing else. "I think I'm ready to start performing." Medda eyed her niece with mild surprise. "Are you sure?" "Well it has been two months." Medda sighed. "I know, but are you sure performing is what you want to do you're your life? I mean, look at me. This is all I've ever done." The red haired woman began to express herself as only a performer would, in song. "Why do stage struck maidens clamor, to be actin' in the drammer?" Blush jumped in with the glib response, "I've heard say, that you play, night and day."  
  
Medda rolled her eyes at her niece, "Oh go 'way!" Mooch and Discord, two of the chorus girls, jumped in with a cheeky response, "We drink water from a dipper. You drink champagne from a slipper." Medda shook her head affectionately at the girls. "Tho it seems cruel to bust all your dreams, still I must; here's the truth I tell you.  
  
Life upon the wicked stage ain't ever what a girl supposes. Stage door Johnnies aren't raging over you with gems and roses. When you let a fella hold you hand which mean an extra drink or sandwich, Ev'rybody whispers 'ain't her life whirl?' " The chorus girls, who had gathered to listen echoed enviously, "Ain't it a whirl? Her life's a whirl."  
  
Medda continued, "Though you're warned against a roué ruining your reputation, I have played around the one night trade around a great big nation. Wild old men who give you jewels and sables only live in Aesop's fables. Life upon the wicked stage ain't nothin' for a girl." Blush suppressed a giggle at her aunt's cautionary song. "Though I've listened to you moan and grieve, you must pardon me if I don't believe you. There is no doubt you're crazy about your awful stage!"  
  
Medda was surprised at how well her niece knew her. "I admit it's fun to smear my face with paint, causing ev'ryone to think I'm what I ain't. And I like to play a demi-mondy role . . . with soul!" Darlin', one of Medda's best actresses, jumped in with, "Ask the hero does he like the way I lure, when I play a hussy or a parmour." "Yet when once the curtain's down your life is pure," Darlin's friend, Quirky reminded her teasingly. Darlin' rolled her eyes. "And how I dread it!" Medda smiled at the young performers' antics, then sighed, "If some gentleman would talk with reason, I would cancel all next season. Life upon the wicked stage ain't nothing for a girl!"  
  
"You'd be back the season after!" Dianna and Cecile insisted. The irrepressible Darlin' jumped back in. "I got virtue but it ain't been tested."  
  
"No one's even interested!" Quirky quipped. Finally Medda sang the last line, "Life upon the wicked stage ain't nothing for a girl!" She sighed, "All right, I surrender. Do you have a piece in mind?" Blush nodded eagerly. "Yes, it's called 'Sparkling Diamonds.' It was Satine's best number at the Moulin Rouge. Of course we don't have the scale here to do it exactly the same, but it's very adaptable." "Do you have the music?" "Of course. And speaking of music, I brought a bunch of other pieces with me from a new show they were rehearsing called 'Spectacular, Spectacular' that I thought we might be able to use." Medda smiled approvingly at her niece. "That's wonderful. I've been thinking we needed some new material. I'll just give your piece to Max," she said, referring to the kindly middle-aged conductor, "And he can start rehearsing the orchestra. You can make your debut next week. Is that all right?" Blush nodded eagerly. She hadn't realized how much she had missed performing until this moment. She was really looking forward to getting on stage again.  
  
******  
  
The next morning  
  
The sign outside Irving Hall said "Continuous Vaudeville," but it meant continuous from noon to midnight. In the mornings the performers gathered for rehearsal. Blush often hung out with them, but this was the first time she had a piece of her own to rehearse. Her friends gathered around her to express their approval and happiness. Pirouette and Steps, a very talented ballroom dance team, were the first. "We're so glad you're finally going to join the team," Pirouette began, smiling. "Any relative of Medda's has to be talented," Steps finished. The two were standing arm in arm as usual. It occurred to Blush, not for the first time, that the two should be a couple. The casual observer would assume they were, but they both insisted that they were nothing more than dancing partners and good friends. Blush, who was very observant, suspected stronger feelings on both sides, but she didn't think the situation called for any interference on her part. At that moment, Keys, a pianist, arrived. "So," she said in her candid way, "You're finally gonna use that tremendous talent to pull in the customers." Blush looked askance at her. "You've never seen me perform. How would you know if I have any talent at all?" Keys shrugged. Anyone who can get a job at the infamous Moulin Rouge must have talent." The remark was obviously meant to be a compliment, but Blush's face fell. Yes, but talent at what? She had really only been a chorus girl, but everyone assumed that a job at the Moulin Rouge entailed other less respectable activities. And even her talent for singing was called into question. Blush's looks were quite striking. She had wildly curly red hair and brilliant emerald colored eyes. But apparently there's only room for one gorgeous red head at the Moulin. She thought of her older and more experienced (In more ways than one) rival Satine. They called her the Sparkling Diamond, while Blush was relegated to the position of mere Diamond Dog. Suddenly she was overwhelmed with memories of the infamous Parisian night club. Faces and voices whilred through her mind. Harold Zidler, owner of the Moulin Rouge, "You're very popular with the gentlemen, Blush. You should . . . capitalize on that." Satine, the sparkling diamond, "Just because you look a bit like me, don't think you're my equal." Nini, Blush's best friend despite a large difference in age and experience, "What's a respectable girl like you doing in a hellhole like this?" Edward Moncrith, Blush's persistent admirer, "I love you Skye, why won't you sleep with me?" Blush shook her head as if to clear it of the unpleasant memories. Just at that moment, Medda entered, signaling the official start of rehearsal and Blush was quickly much too busy to dwell on memories.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~* AN: So, what'd you think? Review! I can't write more till you review! So hit the button! Please! C'mon, you know you want to . . . 


	2. Sparkling Diamonds

AN: And the second chapter! enjoy!  
  
One Week Later  
  
"Heya, Mush," Race greeted his friend smiling, then noticed the hangdog expression Mush was wearing. "Hey, whatsa matter?" he asked, concerened. Mush didn't say anything, just looked even more dejected. "Uh oh," Race said, comprehension dawning, "It happened again, didn't it?" Mush nodded forlornly. "Why do girls always dump me, Race?" Race scuffed his feet against the cobblestones. They had this conversation almost weekly. It was always the same. Mush would meet some pretty girl, fall head over heels for her, get together, declare his love, and get dumped. And every time Race would say, "Well, Mush, it could be that you come on a little strong." And always Mush would say, "But, Race, I can't help it, my feelings just get away from me." But that's not what he said this time. Instead he declared, "You're right. I've had it! Next time I meet a girl I like I won't say I love her till she says she love me." Race looked dubiously at Mush, "Don't you think that might be going a little far?" he asked hesitantly. Mush's face hardened. "No, I can't stand to get my heart broken anymore." Race could forsee trouble coming from this, but he knew Mush wasn't going to give up the idea, so instead of arguing he said, "Come on Mush, let's go to Medda's." Mush agreed and they turned toward Irving Hall.  
  
*****  
  
Blush peeked out from behind the curtain. Sure enough there was a full house. Just as Aunt Medda had promised. She scanned the crowd carelessly. Most of the crowd consisted of guys in newsboy dress. Guys, ha! More like boys, she thought. She had not been impressed with the newsboys she had met. Jack Kelly was ladies man and even now had a new girl at his side, one of Blush's fellow performers, Stress. Blush liked Jack after a while, but mostly for Medda's sake. And Spot . . . she almost let out a growl of anger. Spot had broken her good friend, Duchess' heart. She relaxed as she saw him and Duchess sitting at the center table with Jack's latest flame. Duchess was sitting next to Spot, teasing him. Spot finally leaned over and kissed her, to make her stop. Blush felt a lump in her throat. No one had ever kissed her like that. No one had ever loved her enough to do that. Trying to shake off the feeling, Blush looked towards the door. She suddenly dropped the curtain. She opened it again, peering out at the boy who had just walked in. Blush scolded herself mentally. It's just another guy! And a cute one at that, her devious side thought. She looked even closer. The guy walked up the Jack and waved slightly as he and Racetrack sat down at a table near the bar. Thankfully the guy sat facing the stage. She scanned his features. He sat slightly slumped over, a hand pushing his newsie hat back, as some stubborn dark curls fell in his deep chocolate eyes. His olive-skinned face looked glum as he ordered a drink. Blush knew that when he smiled he would probably look even more handsome. Someone walked up behind her. "Ready, Blush?" Aunt Medda stood there decked out in her usual dress of purple with fancy ornaments. Blush looked down at her simpler dress, regretfully dropping the curtain and her view of the cute guy. She wore a black satin gown, decorated only with embroidered silver stars. The bodice was corseted, supported by tight cap sleeves. The skirt was flowy but not poufy, to allow for movement. The front just reached her knees, revealing white stockings and sparkly silver dancing shoes. The back flared out in a train that ended at the middle of her calves. Blush looked back up at Medda. "Yes, I'm ready." Medda smiled and gave her a quick, but careful squeeze, so as not to disturb her niece's carefully done hair and makeup. Blush hugged her aunt back and smiled. She turned, then climbed carefully up the stairs to her trapeze. As she balanced carefully on her precarious perch she thought of the mystery boy again. She wished she had seen his smile. Suddenly she had a thought. As the trapeze lowered she thought, I'll make him smile, if it's the last thing I do tonight. Max the condictor signaled for her note to be played. She took a deep breat, then sang. "The French are glad to die for love . . ."  
  
*****  
  
Mush was suddenly snapped out of his brooding as the curtain raised to reveal a gorgeous red-head on a trapeze suspended about eight feet above the stage. He watched, captivated, as she began to sing. "The French are glad to die for love. They delight in fighting duels. But I prefer a man who lives, and gives expensive jewels." The orchestra started playing at a lively tempo and the girl did something extraordinary. She spun around full circle on the bar of the trapeze, then she leaned back and simply let go. A horrified gasp rippled over the crowd, Mush included. But she nimbly flipped over and landed lightly on her feet. Mush let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, as she began a flirty, energetic dance number.  
  
A kiss on the hand may be quit continental, But diamonds are a girl's best friend! A kiss may be grand but it won't pay the rental on your humble flat Or help you feed your, mmm, pussy cat! Men grow cold as girls grow old And we all lose our charms in the end. But square cut or pear shaped There rocks don't lose their shape. Diamonds are a girl's best friend! Tiffany! Cartier! Cause we are living in a material world And I am a material girl.  
  
She blew a kiss at the audience, and appeared to be looking right at Mush.  
  
Black Star! Ross Cole! Talk to me Harry Winston, tell me all about it! There may come a time when a lass needs a lawyer, But diamonds are a girl's best friend. There may come a time when a hard boiled employer Think you're "awful nice" But get that ice or else no dice! He's your guy when stocks are high, But beware when they start to descend.  
  
Diamonds are a girl's best, Diamonds area girl's best, Diamond's are a girl's best friend!  
  
Cause that's when those louses Go back to their spouses.  
  
Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend!  
  
As she took a bow, Mush jumped out of his seat, applauding wildly. Thankfully, he wasn't the only one who thought she deserved a standing ovation, otherwise it might have been somewhat embarrassing. As the crowd settled back down, he turned to Jack. "Who was that?" he asked in an awed voice. "Oh, Medda's niece, Blush," he responded casually. "But Medda's making her go by her real name for the show, Skye Larkson, the French Skylark." Mush was puzzled. "Why French?" he asked. Jack shrugged. "Dunno." "Well she's gorgeous, isn't she?" A slow grin spread across Jack's face. "Ye-" He cleared his throat, glancing nervously at the girl beside him. What was her name again? Oh, right, Stress. "I mean, Stress here is much prettier in my opinion," he grinned winningly at the simpering blonde chorus girl, hoping she'd forget his slip up. The cover worked perfectly on the less-than-intelligent girl. "So, umm . . .Jack," Mush began, trying to sound casual. Jack, recognizing the tone of voice Mush used when he wanted something, was instantly wary. "Yeah, Mush?" he responded. "Do you think you could, umm . . . introduce me to her?" Jack relaxed and grinned. "Sure Mush, but what happened to Colette?" he said, referring to the girl Mush had recently been dating. As soon as he said her name, Mush's face fell. Jack cursed himself inwardly. "Oh, geez, Mush I'm sorry. I didn't know. Come on, meeting Blush'll take your mind off your troubles." He got up and Mush followed eagerly. They were joined by Duchess, Spot, and Race, who wanted to say hi to their friend. Peeking behind the curtain, Jack spotted Medda. "Hey, Medda," he called, "Is it all right If we come back?" Medda looked over at him. "We?" Jack pulled the curtain aside to reveal Mush and the others. "Mush here wants to meet Blush." Medda eyes Mush dubiously. She knew his history with girls and she wasn't sure she wanted Blush to meet him, but she could hardly refuse, so she reluctantly ushered the group backstage. "Blush," she called. "You have visitors." "Who is it?" a voice responded from upstairs. "Just Jack and a few of his troublemaking friends," she answered, half- jokingly. "All right, I'm coming down."  
  
*****  
  
Blush smiled at Jack. "Hello, Cowboy. Where's your new girl?" Jack smiled back and leaned over, kissing her hand. Blush noticed someone behind Jack, and looked fully at the person. Her jaw almost dropped. It was her mystery guy! And he looked even better close up. Stop it! she chided herself mentally. Jack followed her gaze. "Oh, this is Mush, Mush, this is Skye Larkson, the French Skylark." Mush smiled at her shyly. She felt her icy composure begin to melt, but said, "How do you do?" She offered her hand. Mush gently shook her hand. So he's gentle as well . . . Mush said hesitantly, "Jack called you Blush. Why?" Blush turned almost rose red in the face as she looked downward. "Oh, it's a nice nickname," he offered. She smiled at him, but kept it subdued. "And how did you acquire you nickname?" Mush turned crimson and mumbled, "I dunno," but Racetrack interrupted cheerfully. "It's cause he's such a softie. He acts tough, but he's really all mush."  
  
Mush looked over at his so-called best friend, his shock and outrage plainly visible. Blush rescued Race by saying, "Well it's no worse than mine." Mush looked at her, then a smile broke onto his face. Race looked at her gratefully over Mush's shoulder. Blush smiled politely at him again, then noticed someone else behind him. She looked over his shoulder. Suddenly her face brightened into a genuine grin as she sqealed out, "Duchess!" The two girls squealed and hugged, then walked off. Duchess kept talking about the show as Blush looked over her shoulder. Mush stood there, looking slightly forlorn. She suddenly blew a kiss to him, then raced up the steps to the dressing rooms.  
  
AN: And the trivia question for the day is: who wrote which parts? I'll tell ya next chapter lol. But you gotta review! Hit the button! 


	3. Dear Diary

Disclaimer: Yep, realized I haven't done one of these yet. I don't own Newsies, Showboat, Moulin Rouge, or Dear Diary, or any of the other songs that will be contained herein. Ok, good that's done, moving on!  
  
AN: Well, this was really supposed to be at the end of chapter 2, but I forgot, so just consider this chapter 2b. ;-)  
  
Blush entered her room in the upstairs backstage area. She walked over to the vanity table and opened a small top drawer. Inside was a worn looking book, bound in read leather. She opened it to see her own handwriting.  
  
The top line of the first page read, January 11, 1898. She quickly flipped through a year of memories to a blank page and took out a pen. As she always did when she was confused she poured out her feelings to her diary.  
  
Dear Diary, Today I saw a boy, and I wondered if he noticed me. He took my breath away.  
  
Dear Diary, I can't get him off my mind and it scares me cause I've never felt this way. No one in this world knows me better than you do, so Diary, I'll confide in you.  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
Today I saw that boy. As he walked by I thought he smiled at me. And I wondered does he what's in my heart? I tried to smile, but I could hardly breathe.  
  
Should I tell him how I feel or would that scare him away? Diary, tell me what to do. Please tell me what to say.  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
One touch of his hand. Now I can't wait to see that boy again. He smiled and I thought my heart would fly. Diary, do you think that we'll be more than friends? I've got a feeling we'll be so much more than friends.  
  
Blush closed the diary and went to get ready for bed.  
  
AN: okay, review! Please! Just push the button! *g* 


	4. The morning after (not like that!)

AN: I am SO sorry this has taken so long. It just took us this long to get together and finish the chapter. From now on we'll probably be alternating posting shorter chapters, since I (Duchess) am away at college. Thanks for still reading and don't forget to review!  
  
Stress: LOL, yep that's you ;-)  
  
Raider: Yeah, it's a good one, that's actually the version from Moulin Rouge (gee I wonder why?) And yes, death to Britney Spears, but sadly the song fit perfectly, so I had to use it ;-)  
  
Gemini: Yes I have a double obsession for those two beautiful movies, both conveniently set in 1899. This was of course planned to help struggling fan fic writers like myself . . .  
  
Kim: glad to hear it!  
  
Meggiebaby81: I feel bad now, but here's more finally!  
  
Rae: thanks for the wonderful support as always!  
  
Yanchi: do we really have to have this conversation again? lol, j/k  
  
Autumn: Actually I used the version called Sparkling Diamonds from Moulin Rouge, but it's the same song :-)  
  
Ally: sorry I guess you had to wait . . . I tried :-)  
  
And now on with the chapter!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
The next day Mush was still in a happy daze. While waiting in line to get his papes at the Distribution Office he went over every detail of the previous evening. Thinking of his first glimpse of her on stage, a silly grin came to his lips. He was still somewhat confused about his brief meeting with her. She had seemed quite aloof at first, but she had blown a kiss at him! He grinned dazedly as he leaned against the wall.  
  
Racetrack had called his friend's name three times with no visible result. He tried again, waving his hand in front of Mush's face. "Mush!" Still nothing. Just then Jack walked by with his usual hundred papes and noticed what was going on. He grinned mischeviously. "Hey Mush! There goes Blush!" Mush's head snapped up immediately. "Where?" he demanded, attempting to hide behind the significantly shorter Racetrack. Jack and Race laughed. "Welcome back to earth," Jack teased him gently. Mush glanced down in embarrassment. Jack turned suddenly serious. "Hey, Mush. She's had kind of a hard time so, um, don't come on too strong." A meaningful look passed between Mush and Race. "Trust me," Mush said, "You've got nothing to worry about." Jack nodded, feeling he had done his duty. Just then the line moved forward and Mush and Race got their fifty papes each. "You selling at Sheepshead, Race?" Mush inqured. Race grinned. "Yeah, I got a hot tip." Mush rolled his eyes. Race had a "hot tip" at least twice a week and mostly he lost. He decided not to comment and said instead, "Well come on guys! Carry the banner!" and headed toward Central Park.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Blush wandered down the stage, glancing at the balcony, but her eyes kept wandering towards the table. She saw in her mind's eye herself leaning over towards Mush. She remembered winking at him and blowing him a kiss. Stop it! She thought frantically, Don't do this to yourself! Blush forced herself to the Bar where Max and Aunt Medda were sitting. She sat down, still thinking. She thought about the guys she had known in her life. There had been Harold, owner of the Moulin Rouge. He had tried, unsuccessfully, to convince her to do some less than respectable work on the side. Blush almost gagged at that thought. Edward MonCrith, or MonCreep as she had nicknamed him, appeared at the Moulin about nine months before she had left. The second son of the Earl of Cheltenham, he was introduced to her by Harold. Edward didn't have an inheritance, so he invested in clubs. This included the girls. Blush had been shocked that he chose her over Satine. He had been kind, courteous, giving her everything the Sparkling Diamond's lovers gave to her. Then the pressure started. Edward, enamored by her innocence, wanted to make her his mistress. He tried every trick of seduction. Flattery, kisses, begging, even threats, but she refused. He insisted he loved her, but Blush knew it wasn't true. She felt the tears sting her eyes. She glanced at her reflection in the big mirror behind the bar. As she looked back down, she recalled how stunned Mush had looked when she blew him that kiss last night. A dreamy smile hugged the corners of her lips. "Blush? Blush honey!" Blush snapped back to attention. Aunt Medda looked at her concerned. "Are you okay?" Blush nodded, smiling at her aunt. "Yes." Her voice came out slightly raspy. She cleared her throat. "Yes, I'm fine." Medda wasn't convinced. She scanned Blush's features. Suddenly understanding dawned on her face. "Did . . . did you meet someone special last night?" Blush felt her cheeks warm as she nodded slightly. Aunt Medda squealed, almost making Max toss his coffee into the air in surprise. Blush laughed out loud as her aunt gave her a hug. "So," Medda said delightedly, "Who is he? Anyone I know?" "Well it's," Blush trailed off, looking down shyly. "Who?" "Mush." Medda froze. "Mush?" Blush felt rising panic. "Yes, is something wrong?"  
  
Medda looked at the floor, then back at Blush. "Mush is, well," she trailed off, searching for the right words. Finally she sighed and continued, "He gets a new girl almost every week." Blush stared at her aunt in disbelief. "Every week? But Mush is too sweet to be a ladies man!" Her aunt held up a hand. "I didn't say he does the breaking up, honey. It's just that he comes on a little . . ." She cleared her throat suggestively. "Oh you mean a little," Blush mimicked the sound, with a little more emphasis, rolling her eyes to the side in a meaningful glance. "No, no, no, no!" Medda was quick to reassure her niece, "Not like that. I think," She tried to halt the fading of Blush's happy glow, but she was torn. Should she tell her niece how Mush would declare his love to every girl he strung along? Blush had already gone through enough! She argued inwardly. But Medda wanted to protect her niece from pain. She had already failed with her own daughter. She couldn't fail again with her niece. Finally, she spoke. "Just . . . just be careful."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Mush wasn't selling very well. His mind kept drifting back to the previous night. "That's a nice nickname," he mimicked his *brilliant* line from the night before. Geez! How stupid did that sound? He was about to let his mind drift over the more positive aspects of the evening when his common sense pulled his mind to a screeching halt. What are you doing? He silently berated himself, Didn't you learn anything from Collette, and Maggie, and Carrie . . . He stopped himself before he spiraled into a painful recollection of every girl he'd every loved and been left by, but continued to chastise himself. How, on the same day that Colette had dropped him, could he jump right back into his old pattern? If he didn't stop it right now, he'd be declaring his love for Blush before the week was out and she'd run just like the rest of them. Okay, so you like Blush. That's all right, just take it easy! And don't forget your promise. Satisfied with this plan, Mush managed to sell the rest of his papes with relative ease.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
AN: Now push the button! Review I say! You never know, it might actually persuade us to hurry up with the updates ;-) . . . okay prolly not, but here's hopin'! 


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